Episode #1 of our new Podcast!

OK, now we're talking.  Here is the inaugural episode of Sing My Welcome Home, the official Pacific Gold podcast.  Each week we will be talking about one track from our upcoming album, also called Sing My Welcome Home.  We'll be dissecting the original hymn lyrics, any story behind the song, our process in writing and recording it, and highlighting interesting musical moments and parts.  Sometimes we'll have a guest with us, sometimes it'll just be me.  At the end of each episode we'll play the song in its entirety.  Over 11 weeks, we will cover all 11 tracks of the album. 

You can subscribe to the podcast on iTunes here, or listen to the podcast below:

Each week, we will also have some additional information about each song, some of which we will mention on the podcast.  Here is the stuff we talked about on Episode 1:

Here is a link to my buddy Nathan Poole's book.  And here is a link to one of his short stories (in case you need to be convinced).

Here is the article by NT Wright that I mentioned.

For some really entertaining line-by-line utter destruction of the theology, writing, and chauvinism (among other things) of the Left Behind books, start here.  This guy goes through the entire book, and I think even subsequent books.  You'll feel a little guilty, but not as guilty as LaHaye and Jenkins should feel for selling so much swill to the world.

Here is the photo of the original hymn in an old hymnal (check out that amazing font!):



We know that a day is coming
Down a path of pain
The one who arrived a stranger,
Coming back to reign
When the night is dark and the road is long
We will raise our eyes to an endless dawn

All those saints of light, dressed in armor bright
Join us in the sky
We are going home, we are going home

Get up, for a day is coming
When a soul is born aloft on a wind
And climbing to a rosy morn
When the road is dark, and the night is long
We will lift our eyes to eternal dawn



Work, for the Day is coming,
  Day in the Word foretold,
When, ’mid the scenes triumphant,
  Longed for by saints of old,
He, who on earth a stranger
  Traversed its paths of pain,
Jesus, the Prince, the Savior,
  Comes evermore to reign.

Work, for the Day is coming,
  Darkness will soon be gone;
Then o’er the night of weeping
  Day without end shall dawn.
What now we sow in sadness
  Then we shall reap in joy;
Hope will be changed to gladness,
  Praise be our blest employ.

Work, for the Day is coming,
  Made for the saints of light;
Off with the garments dreary,
  On with the armor bright:
Soon will the strife be ended,
  Soon all our toils below;
Not to the dark we’re tending,
  But to the Day we go.

Work, for the Lord is coming,
  Children of light are we;
From Jesus’ bright appearing
  Powers of darkness flee.
Out of the mist, at His bidding,
  Souls like the dew are born:
O’er all the East are spreading
  Tints of the rosy morn.

Work, then, the Day is coming,
  No time for sighing now;
Prize for the race awaits thee,
  Wreaths for the victor’s brow.
Now morning Light is breaking,
  Soon will the Day appear;
Night shades appall no longer,
  Jesus, our Lord, is near.